Diamond In the Rough
by PoeticChick
Summary: Before she was the Sparkling Diamond, Satine was just another can-can dancer. This is the story of her journey from diamond dog to the most sought-after courtesan in Paris. PART VII IS FINALLY UP: "WHEN DREAMING ENDS"
1. Diamond In the Rough

Title: Diamond in the Rough  
Rating: PG-13 (for language, sexual content)  
Summary: Before she was the Sparkling Diamond, Satine was just another can-can dancer. This is the story of her journey from diamond dog to the most sought-after courtesan in Paris.  
Disclaimer: I did not think up any of these characters; they are the creations of Baz Luhrmann! Also, Don Black and Jon Barry wrote "Diamonds Are Forever", and it was used in the James Bond movie of the same name. Feedback is greatly appreciated!  
  
  
Part I  
Diamond in the Rough  
  
"Next!"  
Harold Zidler, manager and owner of the Moulin Rouge, reclined in his uncomfortable wooden chair, drumming his fingers on his knee. Really, auditioning acts for the Moulin Rouge was such a bother. Half of the people had no special talent whatsoever, and the other half had egos that were bigger than, well, bigger than him, he thought wryly. He'd just turned down a contortionist on the grounds that he already had multiple contortionists, all of whom were better than this hopeful, and the young man stomped out of the room in tears.  
"Next!" barked Zidler impatiently, looking around for the next act. His eyes fell upon a young woman, most likely in her early twenties, with flaming red hair and a very pretty face. She stood before him with her hands behind her back, a look of impatience on her face as well.  
"You are?" Zidler asked, assessing the girl.   
"I am just what the Moulin Rouge needs," said the girl confidently, tossing her fiery mane of hair, "I am a singer and a dancer."  
Zidler chuckled. "That's very nice, darling, but I'm auditioning talent. If you're looking for employment as one of my diamond dogs, you'll have to come back later."  
"Diamond dogs? A whore?" the girl's lips curled into a smirk.  
"I suppose you could call them that," Zidler said, his eyes narrowing. Who did this spitfire think she was?  
"I came here from Nice, and I would like to be a performer at your club," the girl said calmly, "If I wanted to be a whore, I would simply stand on a street corner in my lingerie like most girls do."  
Zidler chuckled. He was beginning to like this girl, whoever she was. She probably didn't have any talent, but what harm was there in letting her sing for him? Maybe he'd be able to convince her to become one of his girls - with her creamy skin and lithe figure, the gents would certainly go mad for her.  
"Go ahead, then," Zidler said with a wave of his hand, "The stage is all yours."  
The girl squared her shoulders, cleared her throat, and began to sing.  
"Diamonds are forever, they are all I need to please me..."  
Zidler stroked his mustache as the girl sang, adding in a few shimmies and twirls. Already, her raw talent was obvious to him.  
"...diamonds are forever, sparkling 'round my little finger, unlike men the diamonds linger..."   
Not bad, not bad at all, Zidler thought, careful to keep his face blank. Not only was she a cute little thing, sure to please the audience, she had a sweet, pure voice, which was more than he could say for some of his girls. She was also poised, possessing an attractiveness that was breathtaking yet not overwhelming, and she had a stage presence, a confidence, that some of his girls would kill for.  
"Diamonds are forever...forever and ever!"  
With a wink and a kiss, the song was over and the hall was silent. Zidler stroked his mustache again, pretending to be deep in thought.  
"Well?" the girl finally asked after a few minutes of silence had passed, "What do you think? Am I good enough for your Moulin Rouge?"  
"I think," Zidler said carefully, "I could make you a star."  
The girl's composure cracked, and she erupted in squeals, running over to Zidler and throwing her arms around him, catching him completely off guard.   
"Just a moment, now," he said, unwrapping her arms from around his neck, "I haven't agreed to anything."  
"But you said - " the girl began breathlessly.  
"I said that I think I can make you a star, but you're going to have to work for it. You can't just strut in here and expect to become the main attraction just like that, sugarplum," Zidler chortled, "You're going to have to begin the way all the girls do."  
"A - "  
"Yes," Zidler nodded, "A diamond dog. A can-can dancer. But if you've really got what it takes, and I think you do, it won't take long for you to rise above the others. Are you willing to give it a try?"  
"Oh yes! I've always dreamed of being a star, a singer..."  
"Yes, yes," Zidler said briskly, "That's what they all say. Now then, you're going to need a stage name."  
"I already have one," the girl said confidently, "Satine! I'm going to charm the audience and bewitch the men, you'll see!" she giggled like an excited schoolgirl, and her enthusiasm was contagious.   
"Slow down, there," Zidler laughed, "You may have the looks and the talent, chickpea, but you've still got a lot to learn. You're like a lump of clay: you've got the raw materials, and with my help, we can sculpt you into something great. What?" he asked, seeing the look of disgust on Satine's face.  
"Clay?" she asked, arching a thin eyebrow, "I prefer to think of myself as a jewel - a diamond in the rough, if you will. With your help - " she shot him an alluring look " - I can shine."  
Zidler chuckled. He really liked this girl, this Satine, already, and he could tell it wouldn't take long for her to rise beyond his guidance and soar away from the Moulin Rouge like a bird. He'd become her mentor, but he'd have to be careful not to teach her too much, not to let her get too confident or self-sufficient.   
"Well my little dove, welcome to the Moulin Rouge!" 


	2. A Confrontation With Nini

Part II  
A Confrontation With Nini  
  
Clutching her shawl tightly, Satine glanced over her shoulder. Harold had instructed her to go and talk to a woman named Marie, who would be responsible for making Satine's costume, and he also told her to get acquainted with her fellow diamond dogs. She would be expected to perform with them that night. There wasn't much time for her to prepare and learn their dances, but she was confident she'd manage. If Zidler was testing her, she wanted to be sure she'd ace whatever he threw at her.  
"Excuse me?" Satine tapped her knuckles on the lone door at the end of a dingy hallway.   
"Yes? What is it?" An older woman shoved open the door, her dark lip and eye makeup startlingly in contrast with her pale, papery skin. Her eyes swept over Satine critically. "You're the new girl? Come in, then." Her grip was surprisingly tight as she pulled Satine into the room.   
Two other girls were in the room, one lounging on a sagging bed, the other leaning against the wall. They stared at Satine as she stood stiffly in the middle of the room, their conversation dying as they evaluated their new competition.  
"Lucky for you I've got an outfit all ready," Marie said, rummaging through a pile of clothing on the bed.  
"'Oo're you?" the dark-haired girl on the bed demanded, her kohl-lined eyes narrowing suspiciously.  
"I'm Satine, and I'm the new dancer," Satine said, unable to keep the pride from entering her voice.  
"Fresh meat, eh?" the girl took a long drag from the cigarette she held between two fingers. Satine licked her lips uncomfortably.  
"Don't mind Nini," the plump, light-haired girl leaning on the wall spoke up, "Her bark's worse than 'er bite is."  
"I think the boys'd be inclined to disagree!" Nini cackled, tossing her head back. The blonde shook her head and laughed, pushing herself away from the wall.  
"I've got to be goin', Nini. I'll see you tonight." She gave a little wave at Satine as she left the room. Satine turned back to look at Nini as Marie approached her with an armful of ruffles.  
"Put this on," Marie commanded, shoving the dress at Satine.  
"Where's the changing room?" Satine asked, looking uncertainly around the small, dimly lit room.  
Marie glanced at Nini and laughed. "Right 'ere, love."  
Satine pressed her lips together as she set down her shawl and began to unbutton her plain white dress. Nini's gaze didn't waver as Satine quickly slipped out of her dress and into the can-can affair. She smoothed the cloth around her hips and walked over to the cracked full-length mirror in the corner of the room.  
It wasn't as bad as she'd thought it would be, actually. She'd seen brothel girls before, scantily clad in what seemed to be rags, but this dress was decent. It was off the shoulder and was made of a shiny emerald green material that complimented her ivory skin and russet hair. The neckline was low, and the bodice had yellow lacing and fringe. The skirt was full, and a peek under it revealed yellow and black ruffles and petticoats. Satine gave a little twirl, watching the skirt flare out around her.  
"Look at her preen," Nini said out of the corner of her mouth. Satine saw Marie shrug and turn away as Nini rolled her eyes and took another drag on her cigarette.  
"Here." Marie shoved a pair of black heels at Satine, who dutifully slipped them on her feet. Miraculously, they also fit perfectly.  
"Marie, Marie!" A pink-cheeked girl with unnaturally blonde ringlets burst into the room. "China passed out! I was tightening her corset, and she just fell over!"  
"I'm coming," Marie said, grabbing a small black bag from one of the tables. She hurried after the pink-attired girl, not giving a second glance to Satine.  
"You think you're pretty damn good, don't you?"  
"Excuse me?" Satine jumped, having forgotten that Nini was still in the room. Nini had risen from the bed and was swaggering over to Satine.   
"I saw you audition for Zidler," Nini continued, as if Satine had never spoken. "He may have thought you were something special, but we're not all that easily impressed."  
Satine ignored Nini, running a hand through her hair, which was beginning to look a little limp. Nini grabbed her hand.  
"I 'ave been at this place for more years than you can count, sweetheart," Nini said evenly, her grip tightening on Satine's hand. "I've done things that would make your pretty red hair curl, and I have done them for one reason and one reason only: I want to be the next star of the Moulin Rouge, and no sweet little new girl, no matter how much she can make the rakes sweat, is gonna steal that from me."  
"Are you threatening me?" Satine asked, her voice low and steady.  
Nini dropped Satine's hand, her dark eyes narrowing. She tossed her cigarette on the floor, where it lay smoking.  
"Just thought I oughta clear some things up," Nini said silkily, grinding the cigarette butt into the floor with the heel of her shoe, "So there aren't any...misunderstandings later on."  
"Thanks for the insight." Satine said, turning her back on Nini, "I'll keep it in mind." In the mirror, she saw Nini toss her head and flounce out of the room. Her legs wobbled, and she sank down onto the mushy bed, her head in her hands.  
What have I gotten myself into, she wondered, fighting back tears. She wasn't easily frightened away, but Nini seemed to be very serious about no one stealing her limelight. Were all of the other girls going to be that nasty? The blonde didn't seem mean, but Satine hadn't gotten a chance to talk to her yet.   
What are you doing? A second voice in her head piped up. You're going to let some bigmouth whore scare you away from pursuing your dream? You've got more talent in one pinkie finger than all these girls do combined - certainly more than Nini does! You don't need any of them. Zidler will see that tonight, and he'll waste no time in making you the star of the show.  
Satine blinked her eyes a few more times and stood up, shaking out her skirts. She was going to go out there tonight and amaze the crowd. She had come to be a star, and that was exactly what she was going to do. 


	3. The First Night

Please review! Compliments, criticism, any comments at all mean the world to me!  
  
  
Part III  
The First Night  
  
The few remaining hours before night flew by. With the help of some of the more friendly girls, Satine learned as much of their dance routines as she could. The rest, she decided, she'd have to play by ear. The girl that had passed out earlier, Chinadoll, was back on her feet and looking no worse for the wear with her elaborate hairstyle and knee-high boots.  
"The costumes here are quite interesting," Satine said delicately to the woman she'd come to know as Mome Fromage, "I can see what looks like a maid, a little schoolgirl..."  
"Harold covers a wide array of fetishes," Mome said with a chuckle, "I'm the large one, Nini's the loud one, and China and Arabia are for the gents with a penchant for the exotic."  
"Don't you find that horribly demeaning?" Satine asked, shocked.  
"Honey, you'll soon forget about 'demeaning' when the tips start rolling in." Mome said, shaking her head.  
Finally, it was show time. The dance hall began to fill with men dressed in their best, clutching coins and cheap baubles with which to temp the girls. The floor was a sea of top hats and tails, and the excited chatter floated backstage, where it was completely silent.  
Zidler was already up with the orchestra, his voice booming, promising the most beautiful, talented girls in France. The orchestra began to play, and the show began.  
Satine had danced in a few small stage productions, but nothing of this caliber. Skirts swished, heels stomped, and heads tossed as the music grew faster and faster. She had always considered herself to be in good shape, but she was soon out of breath, a sheen of sweat coating her skin as she tried to keep up.  
"And just in case you tire of the usual desires, I've got someone new, and she's waiting just for you!" Zidler chanted, clapping his hands in time with the music, sweat pouring down his face. The crowd went wild, cheering and clapping, straining to see this new beauty. They surged onto the dance floor with open mouths and wide eyes, eager to dance with the diamond dog of their choice.  
At first overwhelmed by the sudden influx of men, Satine soon found herself in her element. She was a natural seductress. A circle formed around her as she twirled, batting her eyelashes and licking her lips. As the music ended, she sank onto the floor in the splits, her skirts raised over her head. The whistles and applause, even louder than before, let her know she was doing her job right.  
Satine got to her feet, curtseying daintily and flashing smiles at her admirers. The music started again, a tune that Satine didn't recognize. Well, if Zidler wanted to see what she was made of, now was the time for him to watch, she thought wryly, swishing her skirts as she tried to catch a glimpse of what the other diamond dogs were doing. The men seemed even closer, though, and she couldn't see over their heads, and she was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable being the subject of their leers.  
"Pardon me," she whispered, trying to slip in between two of the men. The circle was tightening around her, and she was growing more and more wary by the second.  
"Bonjour, ma belle," the rake that she'd bumped into growled, his hands on her waist. He pulled her against him, burying his face in her hair as his hands moved down her back.  
"Excuse me, please," she repeated, wrenching herself out of his grasp only to be caught by a younger man.  
"You must be the fresh meat," he breathed, and Satine remembered Nini's words earlier that day.   
"Excuse me, sir," Satine said desperately as he ran a hand up her leg.  
"Mademoiselle forgot the magic word," a third man appeared behind Satine, his hands cupping her rear end through the ruffles of her skirt.   
Satine's heart was pounding. What was she going to do? She couldn't afford to upset the customers on her first night, but her growing panic told her that she needed to get out of the situation.  
Suddenly, another man, this one with skin darker than Arabia's and clad in shiny pants and a top hat, pushed through the throng. In one motion, he scooped Satine into his arms like a rag doll and fought his way through the crowd to deposit her safely in the corner of the dance hall.  
"Thank you so much, monsieur," Satine breathed, her heart rate beginning to return to normal.  
"It is no problem," the man replied, his words laced with a faint, unidentifiable accent, "I am Chocolat, and it is my pleasure."  
"I can't thank you enough, Monsieur Chocolat," Satine wiped her brow with the back of her hand, "I wasn't sure what to do. Do the men always do...that?"  
"Only to new girls," Chocolat replied, "Some sort of initiation that they find entertaining. I assure you, you will not end up in a similar situation again."  
"Thank you," Satine repeated breathlessly as Chocolat disappeared into the crowd. She turned when she felt a tap on her shoulder, only to come face to face with Nini.  
"'Ow's your first night goin'?" Nini asked, her eyes innocently wide.  
"Very well, thank you," Satine replied loudly, flicking a tendril of red hair out of her eyes. She turned on her heel and strode away, leaving Nini staring bitterly after her.  
The rest of the evening was uneventful. Even after the little incident, the crowd continued to be charmed by Satine, and quite a few roses were thrown at her feet. When the crowd began to disperse and the only men left were those that meant business, Satine straightened her back and smiled prettily. She would take anyone she could get if it meant showing Zidler how serious she was, but there was one man in particular that she was hoping would choose her. He had fine blonde hair and sparkling green eyes, with high cheekbones and a perfectly sculpted nose.  
"Just pick one, Pierre," another man called, his arm around Babydoll. Pierre stroked his chin as he regarded the diamond dogs, who winked and blew him kisses. Satine stood away from the pack, her skirts gathered in her hands to reveal black fishnet stockings on long, muscular legs. When Pierre stopped in front of her, she shot him what she hoped was a seductive glance.  
"I'd like her," Pierre pointed to Satine, who felt her heart leap. Take that, Nini! As she linked her arm through Pierre's, she glanced at Nini, whose arms were crossed across her chest, her face pinched. Nini had obviously wanted Pierre for herself, and Satine felt pleased that she had succeeded in snatching him away from her.   
They strolled through the Moulin Rouge, coming to a stop outside of the small room that was Satine's new home. It consisted of a bed and a washstand and a small, cracked mirror. Satine opened the door with a flourish, cringing as Pierre critically took in the room.  
"There is the matter of payment," Satine said delicately, shutting the door behind her.   
"This should cover it," Pierre dug into his pocket and dumped a fistful of coins into Satine's hands. Her eyes flickered over the money, which was indeed far more than Zidler had instructed her to take. What Harold doesn't know, Satine thought, mischievously slipping the extra money into her coin purse, won't hurt him.  
She spun around and regarded Pierre from underneath her eyelashes. What now? She may be a beautiful young woman and a sultry performer, but when it came to matters of the bedroom, she was painfully inexperienced. Pierre, thankfully, took the lead, wrapping his arms around Satine and pulling her into a deep kiss. Finally, he took his lips off hers and moved down to kiss her neck.  
"Do you know how beautiful you are?" Pierre asked, planting a kiss on Satine's collarbone. She said nothing, pushing her strap down farther to expose even more creamy shoulder. "Do you?" He looked into her eyes, and she felt her heart flutter. His eyes were the exact shade of her dress and just as beautiful, with tiny flecks of gold adding to their shimmer.  
"I mean it, Mademoiselle, you are by far the loveliest woman I have ever laid eyes on," Pierre murmured, his lips brushing her ear.  
"Merci," Satine whispered, feeling herself being drawn deeper and deeper away from reality - the Moulin Rouge seemed to have that affect on everyone. When they were inside, the rest of the world melted away, and all that mattered was what song you were dancing to and whom you were dancing with. And as Pierre continued to whisper into Satine's ear as his hand moved to unlace her bodice, gently pushing her over to the decrepit bed, Satine realized that she would be perfectly happy if she never left his arms again. 


	4. Satine's Resolution

Part IV  
Satine's Resolution  
  
This feeling, this warm, safe, contented feeling, was like none other, Satine decided, blinkingly sleepily into the morning light. She was nestled in Pierre's arms after a night that she had privately deemed unforgettable; she didn't know how Pierre felt about it, but judging by the way he was holding her, he was in agreement.  
"My love..." Pierre murmured, leaning over to gently nibble Satine's earlobe. She shivered, a delightful chill running down her spine. She rolled onto her back as Pierre propped himself up on his elbow, staring affectionately down at her.   
"Will you tell me something?" Satine asked softly as Pierre brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear.   
"Anything," Pierre replied, kissing her cheek.  
"Was it real?" Satine asked, feeling her cheeks flush as soon as she'd spoken the words.   
"What?" Pierre asked.  
Satine felt a lump begin to form in the pit of her stomach. "I just want to know if any of this was real? The compliments, the way you looked at me...you said you loved me, and I just wondered if you were being sincere."  
"How could I be anything but sincere to you?" Pierre asked, his brow furrowing. "You are the sweetest, most beautiful, most - " he bent his head again, this time to lick her shoulder " - delicious girl I've ever met, and I mean that with all my heart, darling."  
"I'm so glad," Satine said breathlessly, throwing her arms around him. It was real! She had known it was real, but she just wanted to make sure he felt the same way.   
She was saved, she thought as she placed kisses as light as whispers on Pierre's collarbone. She wouldn't have to sell herself anymore - how lucky was she that her first customer turned into her first love? Pierre was obviously a man of means, and she knew, just knew, he would take care of her.   
After lingering in bed for a while longer, Pierre rose to dress, explaining that he had an important business meeting to attend.  
"You'll come back tonight?" Satine asked, wrapping the sheet around her slim body, "I don't know how long I can go without you."  
"Of course," Pierre said, planting one last kiss on Satine's lips. He slipped out of the room, gently shutting the door behind him. Only when she was sure he was down the hall did Satine throw her head back and give a shriek of joy - her life was finally getting together!   
  
***  
  
That night, Satine stood outside her room, her arms crossed anxiously. She and Pierre had agreed to bypass the regular show and meet in her room, but he was three-quarters of an hour late, and she was beginning to worry.   
Giggles floated down the hall, and Satine jumped. She was supposed to be out on the dance floor, but she couldn't pass up a chance to be with Pierre. Pierre, she thought wistfully, a dreamy smile spreading across her face. She knew what she was feeling must be love - she'd never felt anything like it before. She felt as if she was glowing, a bright beacon illuminating even the darkest corner of the Moulin Rouge.   
Satine heard the giggles again, and stepped back into the shadows of the hallway. She couldn't afford to let Zidler find her neglecting her duties on the second day of her job. It wasn't Zidler that she had to worry about, however, and the source of the giggles was just around the corner.  
"I have to have you here, right here..." the man was saying urgently. The woman laughed a dry cackle that Satine immediately recognized. So, she wasn't the only one skipping the show, she mused: Nini was meeting a secret lover as well. Not thinking, Satine stalked around the corner and stopped short, her breath completely stolen from her.  
Nini was leaning up against the wall, her skirts up, a leg wrapped around...  
No. Satine's head began to sting as the man clutching Nini stared back at her.  
"Pierre?" Satine didn't think she could speak, but the word had come out of her mouth, which was hanging open in disbelief.   
"Satine," Pierre said casually, kissing Nini's neck. Nini tossed her head back, her eyes carefully gauging Satine's reaction.  
"I don't understand. What's going on?" Satine asked, her mind refusing what her eyes were telling her.  
"What's it look like, sweetie?" Nini asked, "Now, why don't you run and play while the grownups take care o' some business, eh?"  
"But...Pierre, I thought you loved me," Satine said, her voice trembling as her eyes swam with hot tears, "Last night - I thought it meant something to you."  
"Oh it did, honey," Pierre said, laughing meanly, "It was the best night I've ever had with a whore."  
Satine turned and ran, tears spilling onto her cheeks. With a whore, he'd said, with a whore. That's all she was to him. While she was falling in love, he was using her for her body. How could she have been so foolish?   
"Whoa, there!" Hands gripped Satine's shoulders, and she found herself staring into the concerned face of Marie. "Where are you running off to?" Marie asked, taking in Satine's streaked makeup and heaving shoulders.  
Satine began to sob, unable to find words to explain the way she was feeling. Marie folded Satine into her arms and rocked her like a baby, gently leading her into the dressing room and helping her sit down on the bed.  
"Shh, easy now," Marie whispered, stroking Satine's hair.   
"I'm such a fool!" Satine cried, dabbing her eyes with the hankie Marie handed to her. "I thought he loved me! I really did!"  
"Thought who loved you?"  
"Pierre!"  
Marie's expression darkened. "Oh darling...Pierre's been a regular here for years. He's a smooth bastard, he is. You must be his latest casualty."  
"Wh-wh-what?" Satine sniffled.  
"Harold's got all sorts of girls for all sorts of appetites," Marie said softly, "This wonderful gent likes to romance his girls. Most of the seasoned dogs know not to take his words for anything, but every once in a while some young, innocent girl will think he's being sincere and fall head over heels."  
Satine shook her head, beginning to cry again. "It felt real," she whispered, clutching Marie's hand, "He said he loved me. I thought I loved him."  
"Poor thing..." Marie murmured, wiping a tear off of Satine's cheek.  
Suddenly, the door burst open and the large frame of Harold Zidler filled the doorway, a look of indescribable fury on his face. Marie tightened her arms around Satine, and Satine snuggled deeper into the embrace.  
"Are you mad?" Zidler boomed like a thunderclap, "Are you completely dim-witted?"  
"What?" Satine asked, standing up, wiping her face with the back of her hand.  
"Where were you?" Zidler rasped, "It's your second night, and you skipped the show!"  
"I-I was - "  
"There is no excuse!" Zidler raged, stepping forward and towering over a trembling Satine. "I gave you a chance, and you're wasting it."  
"Harold..." Marie touched his arm. He shook her away.  
"You think you're beautiful and talented and special," Zidler continued, "But let me tell you something else: you are nothing without my help, do you understand that? You. Are. Nothing. We had an agreement, and you broke it. You broke it."  
"I'm sorry!" Satine cried, tears rolling down her cheeks, "I'm sorry, Harold!"  
"France is a large country!" Zidler shouted, "And there are countless other pretty girls that could take your place. You are nothing special without me."  
Satine fell to her knees, sobbing wildly as Marie watched from the bed, the hankie clasped tightly in her hand. "I'm sorry," she screamed through her tears, her hands clutching at Zidler's pant legs, "I made a mistake, and I'm sorry!"  
"I should throw you out on the street like the no-good whore you are!" Zidler bellowed.  
"Harold!" Marie shouted.  
Satine sat back on her heels, her hands covering her face as her shoulders shook. Everything was quiet for a few minutes until Zidler crouched down beside her, wrapping her in his arms, his mustache tickling her ears.  
"I'm sorry, gosling, I'm sorry," he murmured comfortingly, "I got carried away. I'm sorry. I just had to show you how vital it is that you obey me." Satine whimpered. "I can make you a star," Zidler continued, his tone hushed, "but you have to do what I say."  
"I will," Satine cried, "I will. I'm sorry."  
"Shh, I know," Zidler whispered, stroking her matted hair. They crouched on the floor for a while longer, Satine crying quietly, Zidler murmuring comfortingly in her ear.   
When Satine finally rose to wash her face and go to bed, she had made a resolution: as long as I am at the Moulin Rouge, she thought impassively, I will not fall in love. As a whore - pardon me, courtesan (Zidler instructed her to think of herself as the latter), I cannot and will not fall in love, for it will only end in heartbreak and ruin. 


	5. Confessions

Part V  
Confessions  
  
A few uneventful weeks passed. Satine's broken heart slowly began to mend with help from Marie and a few of the other diamond dogs that had also been deceived by Pierre. Pierre continued to come to the Moulin Rouge, but after a few encounters with Chocolat, who seemed to have appointed himself as Satine's bodyguard, Pierre came less and less often, eventually disappearing.  
As the time went by, Satine's heart healed and hardened. She became even more focused on her work, rehearsing every spare moment she had, throwing herself into her singing and dancing.   
"I really am gratefully for Pierre now," Satine said thoughtfully. During one of her rare breaks, she and Marie were enjoying a cup of tea together and chatting. Although neither of them said anything about it, Satine thought of Marie as her mother, and she knew Marie saw her as the daughter she had never had.   
"Why?" Marie asked, taking a sip of tea. She looked at Satine over the rim of her cup.  
"Because he taught me an invaluable lesson," Satine said confidently, wrapping her hands around her warm teacup, "He taught me that in this line of work, I cannot fall in love. Believing that I can do so is a weakness, and I'm grateful to him for showing me that."  
"Don't go there, sweet," Marie said, her tone grave.  
"Why not?" Satine asked, "It's the truth, isn't it?"  
"You can always fall in love," Marie said, putting her hand over Satine's, "And don't let any overzealous manager, jealous can-can dancer, or thoughtless bastard tell you otherwise!"  
Satine sighed, shifting in her chair, "Marie, to fall in love is to open yourself up, to make yourself vulnerable. And when you sleep with a different man every night, you cannot be vulnerable." She stared into her teacup.   
"I know exactly what you're thinking," Marie said softly, "And please, don't do that to yourself. Everyone deserves to be loved, Satine. Don't let one bad experience teach you otherwise. Don't make the same mistake I did."  
Satine was dying to ask Marie what that cryptic comment meant, but the sad, faraway look in Marie's eyes told her that it was a subject best left untouched. Instead, Satine squeezed hand comfortingly.  
"Well, Marie, I think I'm going to try to get some sleep before the show," Satine rose, tipping her head back and downing the last drop of tea in her cup. Marie nodded but did not reply, her chin in her hand, her eyes looking at something Satine couldn't see, something that she suspected was long in the past.  
Satine slipped out the door and walked to her room where she stripped off her dress and crawled into bed. She pulled the ratty blanket she kept at the foot of her bed over her shoulders, snuggled down into her pillow, and was asleep a moment later.   
She didn't know how long she slept, but when she awoke she sensed someone in the room with her before she saw him sitting on her bed.  
"Chocolat!" Satine exclaimed, a hand on her thumping heart. Realizing that she was clad only in her slip, she clutched the blanket to her chest.   
"I'm sorry I frightened you," Chocolat said, his voice deep.  
"What are you doing here?" Satine ran a hand through her hair, "The show won't start for a few hours, will it?"  
"No," Chocolat stared at his hands, which were tightly clasped in his lap.  
"Then...what are you doing here?" Satine asked gently, her eyes flickering over Chocolat's tense body and averted eyes.   
"I have something to tell you," Chocolat whispered, his coffee-colored cheeks reddening slightly.  
"Yes?" Satine took one of his large, warm hands between her smaller ones. "What is it? You know you can tell me anything."  
"I love you."   
Satine felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Love? He loved her? No, not Chocolat, dear Chocolat. How could he love her? "How could you love me?" she burst out. Seeing his face fall, she gripped his hands more tightly.   
"I didn't mean it like that, I didn't," she whispered urgently, "I just meant...oh, Chocolat, you don't love me."  
"Yes, mademoiselle, I do."  
"Oh, Chocolat..." Satine threw her arms around him, tears spilling down her cheeks. She clung to his strong frame, feeling his heart fluttering against her chest.   
"Chocolat..." Satine pulled away and took his head in her hands. She looked searchingly into his brown eyes, which also glistened with tears. She cradled his face between her palms as she spoke. "Chocolat, I am a courtesan. I made a vow not to fall in love, and I intend to keep it. For me, love means pain and heartbreak, and I cannot, I will not see you get hurt. I won't!"  
"Isn't that my decision to make?" Chocolat asked simply.  
"Oh God," Satine blinked rapidly, a tear clinging to her long lashes.  
"I was attracted to you the instant I saw you," Chocolat said, "and as I've gotten to know you my feelings have grown from friendship to love."  
"No, no, no!" Satine shouted, "Don't say that word; do not say that word!" She took a deep breath. "It's a sacrifice I must make if I want to attain stardom, and I am willing to do so, but you're making this very difficult."  
In response, Chocolat leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. His lips were soft and full, and Satine felt her resolve against this steadfast protector of hers weakening.  
"Nnno!" Satine wrenched her lips off of his and scrambled backwards in the bed. They stared at one another in silence, both breathing hard. Satine found herself unable to tear her gaze off of his face, away from his eyes, which were watching her intently.  
"You've never looked more beautiful," Chocolat murmured. Satine's fiery hair was tousled and tangled, and her eyes were wide, with a wild look in them. One strap of her beige slip had fallen off her shoulder, and now Chocolat reached forward and gently slid it back in place. Satine shivered when his fingers touched her.   
"Chocolat, I think you should leave," she said, steeling herself. She got out of bed and grabbed her bathrobe off the floor, wrapping it around her body.   
"Mademoiselle..."   
"Please just go," she said tightly, trying to keep the emotions she was feeling out of her voice. She heard the bed creak as Chocolat got to his feet. "I'm sorry," she burst out, spinning around to face him. He stared dispassionately back at her.  
"It's for the best, Chocolat, it really is," Satine continued, taking a few steps towards him, "We'll be friends for a lot longer than we could be lovers in this world. It's for the best."  
"For you, maybe," Chocolat shrugged, "I just want you to know that I respect your feelings, and I will not let this get in the way of my protecting you. But you cannot make my feelings change, no matter what you say."  
With that, Chocolat left the room, leaving the door open a crack behind him. Clutching the tie of her robe, Satine ran to the door. She peered outside, watching Chocolat's departure down the hallway, his lively gait replaced by a hunched, lifeless amble.   
"God!" Satine began to cry again. She fell onto the bed, sobbing wildly. It wasn't fair; it just wasn't fair! In pursuing her lifelong dream, she was denying herself and others the chance to love. Satine's shoulders shook as she wept into her pillow, drenching it with tears.   
Finally, Satine rolled onto her back, clutching the pillow to her chest as she stared up at the cracked, stained ceiling. If I focus on love, I may never get out of bed again, she thought. I need to concentrate on my singing and my dancing. That is how you make a good life for yourself; you concentrate on your goals, and you do not allow yourself to be distracted - by anything, she berated herself. She'd been lax in her focus, and it was showing. She was a sopping, tearful mess.   
And, lying in her unmade bed that mournful afternoon, try as she might, Satine could not convince herself that she didn't crave love. But even more than that, she wanted to be a star, and Satine knew that eventually, somehow, she always got what she wanted. 


	6. Like A Sparkling Diamond

Part VI  
Like a Sparkling Diamond  
  
More weeks flew by, and with each passing week, Satine's confidence grew. The rehearsal schedule she'd set for herself was rigorous, but in her eyes it was all worth it. Although she was getting less sleep than ever, she traversed the Moulin Rouge with more energy and confidence than ever. Seemingly over her inner conflicts about love, she devoted all of her time to improving herself and her performance.   
"Look at 'er," Nini sneered as Satine glided past her like she was walking on air, "Strutting around like she's the queen..."  
"Hush, Nini," hissed Mome Fromage.  
"She thinks she owns the damn place." Nini griped.  
"'Old your tongue!" Marie snapped, overhearing Nini's grumbles, "That girl is sweeter and has got far more talent than you'll ever have, Nini."  
Satine remained relatively unaware to Nini's escalating jealousy. Zidler was also oblivious to Nini's jealousy. He was so thrilled with how his newest courtesan was in such high demand among the usual Moulin Rouge visitors that he was blind to nearly everything else. Every night, Satine found herself being introduced to a rich, prominent Parisian gentleman by an eager Zidler, who swore on the head of every person he'd ever met that he'd been saving his prized courtesan just for the gentleman.  
"You'll never guess who's coming to the Moulin Rouge tonight, my duckling," Zidler sang, bursting into Marie's room, where Satine had set up a small dressing table. Presently, she was plucking her eyebrows and squinting into the grimy glass of the only whole mirror she'd been able to find.  
"Do tell!" Satine said brightly, pursing her lips as she plucked another hair.  
"Count Jacques Chretien of Nantes!" Zidler bellowed, swelling with pride.   
"A count?" Satine exclaimed, glancing away from the mirror, "I can hardly wait, Harold!"  
"And they say..." Harold paused for dramatic effect, "He has vaults full of jewels from his first wife!"  
"I do love jewels!" Satine said, tossing aside her tweezers and fluffing her hair. "When can I meet him?"  
Satine's days were basically all the same. The show at night, followed by an indeterminate amount of time with a client. The next morning Satine would rise, the hour determined by how late she'd been up the night before and how much she'd exerted herself. She'd spend the rest of the time until the show practicing in the dance hall or in her room and sometimes stopping for a tea and chat with Marie.   
One day, while Satine was dancing in the dance hall, Zidler walked in with yet another man for Satine to meet.   
"I'm tho thwilled about meeting your newetht girl, Zidler!"   
"My sweet?" Zidler called, "Come and join us! Satine?" He led the gentleman into the dance hall in search of Satine.  
Satine did not hear anything. Her face was tightened in concentration as she stretched, pulling one leg back behind her head.   
"Satine!"  
Satine looked up, startled. Standing beside Zidler was a man about half his size. He was clad in a black tuxedo and carried a wooden cane, and a black goatee obscured his sharp little chin.  
"This is - "  
"Henri de Raymond Toulouse-Lautrec Montfa!" the small man interjected, thrusting his hand into Satine's.  
"Monsieur," Satine breathed, batting her eyelashes at an awed Toulouse.   
"This is your newetht girl, Zidler? She'th thtunning!" Toulouse squeaked excitedly.   
"Monsieur, I would love to get better acquainted with you," Satine purred, "Might I go slip into something more comfortable first?"  
"Of courthe, of courthe!" Toulouse lisped, clasping his hands below his chin, "But huwwy back!"  
"Excuse me just a moment." Zidler said, hurrying alongside Satine. He followed her to her room, where she began to get dressed.  
"You're sure he's rich?" Satine whispered, pulling off the old clothes she used to practice in and reaching for some finer lingerie.  
"He's a drunk that fancies himself a bohemian revolutionary," Zidler spat, "And blows what little money he has on girls and absinthe. He's been a faithful patron for years."  
"All right," Satine said uncertainly, running a comb through her hair. She straightened her shoulders, flashed Zidler a smile, and hurried back to the dance hall, where Toulouse was waiting.  
When Toulouse's eyes fell upon Satine, his jaw dropped. She was clad entirely in red - a red lace teddy, red garter belt and stockings, and red high heels, with a red feather boa wrapped around her neck.   
"My dear," squeaked Toulouse, "You are a vision in cwimson!"   
"Thank you," Satine said, tickling Toulouse under the chin with the edge of her boa.   
"I really, truly mean it," Toulouse continued, "You look like...a thparkling ruby!"  
"A ruby?" Satine pulled away, her lips forming a sexy pout. "Monsieur, I thought I was better than some - " she sniffed " - ruby!"  
"Oh you are, you are!" Toulouse hurriedly amended, "You're like...a thparkling diamond!"  
"A sparkling diamond," Satine mused, "I like that." She fixed an alluring eye on the quivering Toulouse, "But that's not all I like." She stepped closer to him, bending over a little to give him a better look at the pale cleavage that was spilling out of the teddy.  
"No?" He stuttered, his eyes darting from her eyes to her breasts.  
"No," Satine said seductively, wrapping the boa around his neck.  
"She's incredible!" Zidler said to a group of diamond dogs, watching from the wings as his prize jewel led an all-too-eager Toulouse back to her room, "They're completely unable to resist her charms!"   
"Humph!" Nini folded her arms over her chest, a sullen look on her face.   
"What is it, lovely?" Zidler asked, concern written on his face, "What's wrong?"  
"All I ever 'ear is 'Satine, Satine, Satine!'" Nini whined, "The rest of us - " she gestured to the surrounding girls " - are beginning to feel a little underappreciated."  
"Don't be silly," Zidler chuckled, "You're all beautiful, talented girls. Satine is just..." he shook his head. "She's got something that the rest of you just haven't."   
As Zidler walked away, Nini's face twisted into an ugly sneer. "Whatever it is that she's got that I haven't," she announced loudly, "I'm gonna find and I'm gonna take, because no one tells Nini that she isn't good enough!"  
And with that, Nini turned on her heel, her skirts swirling around her like a golden cloud, and stomped out of the dance hall. 


	7. When Dreaming Ends

Part VII  
When Dreaming Ends  
  
"Satine! Satine!" Marie held her skirts above her knees as she raced into Satine's room. Satine was lying on her bed with a piece of sheet music, and she glanced up in surprise as Marie burst through the door.  
"What is it, Marie, what is it?" Satine giggled, holding her friend tightly by the shoulders. "Get your breath, and then tell me!"  
"Harold said that you're ready for your own show!" Marie gasped, clutching her side, "He told me just a minute ago!"  
Satine screamed, throwing her arms around a happy but exhausted Marie. They hugged each other as they jumped up and down.  
"Oh Marie," Satine gulped, pausing. "Oh Marie, it's really happening, isn't it? What I've waited for for so long!"  
"And no one deserves it more than you, love!" Marie said, blinking back tears. She filled Satine in on the rest of the details - Satine was to come up with a song and dance routine, rehearse it with the other performers, and perform it in one week.   
"One week?" Satine gasped, "One week? Marie there's not much time!" She shoved a curl behind her ear as she scrambled for a scrap of paper and a fountain pen. "I'll need music - and a costume! Marie, what will I do for a costume? This has got to be great, Marie, so Harold knows he's not making a mistake!"  
"Don't worry about the costume, duck," Marie winked at the already-frazzled Satine, "I'll manage to come up with something suitable, don't you fret."  
"Oh, thank you, Marie!" Satine embraced her tightly again. "I don't know what I would do without you."  
"Well, I don't know what the Moulin Rouge would have done without you," Marie countered, "Business was slowing down, the girls were getting weary, and then you came along like a breath of fresh air! You've revitalized the Moulin Rouge, Satine, you really have."  
Satine brushed away a tear and grinned at Marie. "I've got to get to work, Marie. You'll let me know if I can help you with the costume?"  
Marie nodded as she left the room. As soon as the door was closed, Satine threw herself onto her bed, a smile a mile wide plastered on her beautiful face. She took another glance at the sheet music and cleared her throat.  
"Today's a day," she sang, "When dreaming ends."   
"It's happening..." she murmured, tossing the sheet music in the air wrapping her arms around her pillow, "Oh God!" She began to giggle, and the giggle turned into a full-out laugh as she rolled around on her sheets like a little girl. Finally, her dreams were ending and reality, wonderful reality, was beginning.   
  
***  
  
"Francois, here's your part. I'll need you to learn it in three days." Satine handed the trumpet player a book of music and smiled sweetly at him. Sure enough, Francois blushed and nodded dutifully, grinning up at Satine.   
Satine finished passing out music to the orchestra and clapped her hands. "I've learned my part, and now I need you all to learn yours. I promise, if this goes well, it will be worth everyone's while!" The men of the orchestra laughed and elbowed one and other as Satine turned away. She smiled to herself, content to let them interpret her words as they wished.   
"Diamond dogs ready?" Satine cried, clapping her hands again. Clustered together on the dance floor, they all nodded, more or less eager to get started. "Places!" Satine shouted, squeezing in the middle of a circle of girls.   
The music began, the orchestra more or less together on the first note, and things began to roll. The diamond dogs had learned their parts well, thrilled to help out a fellow girl. There was a kinship between them that survived the necessary competition in their line of work, and most of them felt that when push came to shove, there wasn't anything they wouldn't do to help out a friend.   
At the first crescendo, the circle of girls around Satine collapsed on the floor, revealing -   
"A kiss on the hand may be quite continental!" Satine sang out, posing seductively in the circle of skirts.  
"Diamond's are a girl's best friend!" the diamond dogs sang together, swishing their skirts and winking at the nonexistent audience.   
"A kiss may be grand, but it won't pay the rental..." Satine twirled around, leaping over the girls around her to land in the front. She led the diamond dogs in song and dance, and when it was over they were all panting and sweating.  
"That was great, girls!" Satine exclaimed, throwing her arms around Mome Fromage. "I'd like to rehearse it one more time though - Nini, I noticed that you weren't always with the rest of us."  
All eyes turned to Nini, who stood with one hip jutted out, her arms crossed lazily over her chest.   
"So?" Nini asked, tossing her head.  
"So..." Satine walked over to her, her heels clicking in the otherwise silent room, "It's important that we all stay together. This is just a rehearsal, but we have to perform this in three days."  
"I don't have to perform anything," Nini snapped, her eyes shooting daggers at Satine, who stood a few inches away from her.  
"And I," Satine lowered her voice, stepping closer to Nini and staring directly into her narrowed eyes, "Don't have to keep it a secret that you've been Monsieur Savoy's steady mistress and just happened to forget to mention that fact to Harold." She raised a pencil-thin eyebrow. "You've been keeping all the money you've been making for yourself, and I do believe that's against the rules."  
For an instant, Satine thought she saw fear flash across Nini's face, but if she did it was quickly replaced by a smirk.  
"I thought you would've learned by now, sweetheart," Nini drawled, slowly stepping away from Satine, "I don't play by the rules." With that, she turned and marched away from the girls, never looking back. Arabia glanced at Mome Fromage and shrugged. They were long used to Nini's tantrums and outbursts.  
"One more time, girls?" Satine asked, turning back to them.   
  
***  
  
It was the night before the performance, and although one would expect to find Satine sound asleep in her room, catching up on some much-needed sleep, she was not there.   
"Quickly, Marie, I can't wait!" Satine giggled, her hands over her eyes. Unable to sleep, she had crept to Marie's room to see her finished costume. As the candles on the bedside tables flickered, Marie opened a chest at the foot of her bed and pulled out the costume. She laid it on the bed, and turned to Satine.  
"You can look now."  
Satine opened her eyes. "Oh, Marie..." she whispered, fingering the skirt, "It's perfect."  
And it was perfect. Marie had been slaving away on the costume for hours, and all of her hard work had paid off. The costume was the same color as her can-can dress, emerald green, and vaguely resembled her red ensemble.  
The costume consisted of a green lace corset from which an almost-sheer skirt fell. The skirt had multiple layers, each of which was a shade lighter green. A slit went up almost the entire length of the front of the skirt, stopping at mid-thigh. Satine couldn't identify the material Marie had used for the outer layer of the skirt, but it was sheer and shimmery, transforming the costume from a beautiful creation to something almost magical.   
"You like it?" Marie asked anxiously, wringing her hands. "I considered using a different color, but then I thought why tamper with perfection?" She glanced at Satine, who was still staring at the costume. Satine finally tore her eyes away from the bed and stared seriously at Marie.  
"Marie, I cannot thank you enough," she said solemnly, "I don't know how I can repay you for all of the help you've given me."  
"Oh love, just seeing you up there is all the thanks I need," Marie whispered, her voice trembling. She hugged Satine tightly, blinking back proud tears. "You just get up there and do me proud; I know you will."  
  
***  
  
"Just wait until you see it, Babydoll," Satine whispered. She and a few of the diamond dogs were walking through the back halls of the Moulin Rouge, discussing the upcoming performance. "It's so beautiful. Marie couldn't have done a better job."  
"That great, Satine," Babydoll said sincerely, patting Satine's arm, "I can't wait to see it."  
"I can't wait to see the rakes' reaction!" Tattoo exclaimed. The three girls burst into giggles as they strolled past Nini's room.   
Nini stuck her head into the hallway, hearing the laughter. She scowled when she saw the girls talking together.   
"I made Marie keep it in the dressing room until the performance," she heard Satine say, "I don't want anything to happen to it."  
As the girls rounded the corner, Nini raised an eyebrow. Glancing at the snoring ass - er, client - in her bed, she slipped out of the room and down the hall towards the dressing room. She had a bounce in her step that had been missing for so long, she smiled as she passed Petite Princesse, and she even sang a little song under her breath.  
"Today's the day," Nini breathed, "When Satine's dreams end." With a cackle, she slipped into the dressing room. 


End file.
